


Of Scars and Sacrifice

by LoreKeeper427



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Angst and Feels, Character Death, Dragon Age Spoilers, Dragon Age: Inquisition Spoilers, F/M, Graphic Description, Grief/Mourning, Heavy Angst, Lyrium Addiction, Male-Female Friendship, Mild Language, Mild Sexual Content, Multiple Origins (Dragon Age), No Smut, Panic Attacks, Tags May Change
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-15
Updated: 2020-01-15
Packaged: 2021-02-27 15:22:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,132
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22269361
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LoreKeeper427/pseuds/LoreKeeper427
Summary: Ten years after Alistair's death, Elisse is still lost in her grief. When the opportunity to fix the travesty presents itself to keep the wrong warden from dying, how could she possibly refuse? Even if it's at the cost of her own life.Updates will be sporadic and there is no set schedule. As time allows, updates will occur. Rated for LanguageBetaedPlease note: There may be possible triggers in this fic. Please take care of yourself and get a pre-reader if necessary. Take care of yourself. Triggers noted before each chapter when possible.
Relationships: Alistair/Female Warden (Dragon Age)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 5





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was posted, then taken down for a while, and is now reposted again.  
> If you enjoy, thank CuriousThimble and Eravalefantasy as this never would have been posted again had they not threatened to kick my ass if I didn't get back to working on it. So, it's being rewritten and here we are.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW Grief

### 9:41 DRAGON

Elisse Theirin laid alone in the large empty bed, relishing the peace and privacy nighttime offered. The breeze drifting from the ceiling chilled the tears on her cheeks, stinging in the briskness of the Frostback air. Through the massive gap, she counted the stars, running her fingers through long curly hair. “One, two, three…” 

It was a distraction and a mediocre one at best, but it was important to keep the mind busy, to refrain from thinking about... everything. The record was 2,437 before she would be interrupted and required to start over.

Welcoming the Hero of Ferelden to Skyhold caused an uproar of excitement and unnecessary elaborate festivities planned by the ever persistent Ambassador. Everyone was enamored by the undeserved title. Even she didn’t dare be so disrespectful to spurn the niceties, meaning her presence was not optional.

That was the problem with this place. Well, this one, as well as any other, honestly. The incessant need to keep up appearances. Stand straight, do what is expected, be polite, curtsey, bow, fake the smile even though you’re dead inside. The way of a noble upbringing. Entertaining the pretentious and frilly over nonsensical drivel when there were far more important matters requiring attention. How easy it was to minimize the severity of a situation when it cost you absolutely nothing; not a coin of gold nor silver, not a bead of sweat off the brow, or blood from the body.

3,600 days—10 years— 5,184,000 minutes. Elisse kept track of it all since. She went there in her dreams. Not on purpose, of course, but some curse kept the incredibly detailed memory fresh in her mind, reliving the horror as she slept, having no ability to change the outcome or knowing there was a need to until the nightmare replayed itself in its entirety. A plague of eternal torment.

At this point, she had learned to live with it, but never got over it, couldn’t forget, and the pain never subsided. There was a hole in the world long before the sky burst open… one would think someone else would have noticed.

The familiar lukewarm dampness of more tears slid down her cheeks. Not bothering to wipe them away, she paid them little mind as they were neither the first, nor the last for today. She continued counting, 100, 101, 102…

Despite her best efforts, she could not expel the memory. She tried magically, medicinally, hypnotically, and contemplated striking a deal with a demon in order to forget. A fine idea in theory, but since the thrall of a spirit failed to work previously, ten years ago, she was certain it was impossible to recreate all she lost.

Elisse had woken, screaming his name. Face blotchy and gasping for breath, sweat covered her body as she trembled. Beginning her routine of counting stars, she tried to calm herself down. Cullen had rushed upstairs to soothe her as promised, wrapping Elisse in a hug so tight she nearly suffocated by the fur of his mantle. He stammered apologies and headed to Skyhold's larder to retrieve water. Despite her repeated insistence it was unnecessary, he departed anyway.

Left to her own devices, she counted, trying to get her mind to focus on anything else, other than Alistair’s death. 151, 152, 153…


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TWs-Grief, Major Character Death, Descriptions of violence, Mourning, Mental and Emotional Breakdown, Panic

### 9:31 DRAGON

Elisse grabbed Alistair’s face, her lips brushing his in a gentle sensation. She whispered, “I love you.” knowing in her heart this was goodbye. 

A tear, the first of many, rolled down her cheek as he wiped it away. His nervous shifting spoke to the extent of his worry. Riordian’s news hadn’t been the easiest to swallow but she volunteered to take the final blow, hoping against all odds that she wouldn’t have to. When they encountered his corpse during the ascension to the top of the tower, Elisse knew what needed to be done. 

It was her duty, and if nothing else, an honor to die for Ferelden, for the Grey Wardens, and among friends. She wrapped her arms around Alistair's torso, squeezing him tightly. Closing her eyes, she relished the fleeting moment before releasing him.

Exhaling a ragged breath, she hugged both Sten and Oghren, catching them off guard. Elisse laughed as Sten complained about how uncomfortable and unconventional the human practice was. Oghren grumbled, dusting himself off as though she threw dirt at him. “That’s, ugh, nice Warden.”

_As a Grey Warden, it is important to keep your priorities about you. Remember to protect those who stand behind you. Respect those who stand beside you, and defeat those who stand against you._

Duncan had told her that once. Elisse’s lips curved into a small smile thinking of the mentor who saved her from Howe’s treachery. He did so much for her in so little time before his passing. Yet, she took comfort in the thought it wouldn’t be long before she saw him, and her family again.

She burst through the door at the top of Fort Drakon. Charging with sword drawn in the right while keeping the left hand open for spell casting, she stood confident, ready to end this once and for all, having accepted the fact she would not be walking out.

It wasn’t long before she was surrounded by darkspawn, blocking her path to the archdemon. Pooling her mana, she touched her forehead. A rush of magical energy expelled outward, stunning the creatures long enough to regain the upper hand. Slicing through each, she maneuvered her way forward using a combination of alternating sword techniques and spells. While the archdemon was distracted by the other mage reinforcements, she charged. It sensed her and swung its tail. Striking Elisse, the impact flung her backward, her head collided against the stone roof. 

Vision blurry, she peered through the red liquid running down her face to see Alistair in front of her. The ringing in her ears muffled his voice, garbling his words. He spoke rapidly by how quickly his lips were moving but whatever he said fell on deaf ears, completely indiscernible. A brief kiss left a ghostly impression before he turned away. 

The metallic odor still singed her nostrils as the blood soaked her armor, permanently staining it crimson. In slow motion, she watched Alistair charge the archdemon, powerless to stop him. Faint from her head wound, she swallowed, mouth dry. She froze in unrelenting fear, not being able to speak or think, as realization set in too little too late.

Panicked, she fumbled to her feet, stumbling forward. Tripping despite no obstacles, she nearly impaled herself on her own sword. Alistair uppercut the underbelly of the beast with his blade, each blow a precise movement as he tumbled out from beneath the archdemon moments before it collapsed. He plunged the sword into the dragon, sacrificing himself to save her. 

Elisse mustered every ounce of energy she could within her tiny body and ran forth to try to stop him, push him out of the way, grab the hilt, anything. She almost closed the gap between the two of them, footfalls quickening as she screamed. “Alistair, let go of the sword! Now!” Her voice pierced her own ears. A glowing yellow aura surrounded him. She saw the exact moment when the laughter and light that once filled his beautiful brown eyes, fizzled out, overcome by the darkness.

The aura pulsed outwards with such force, it knocked Elisse backwards, again meeting the stone with a heavy thud. She rolled her neck, sitting upright as she stared in disbelief at the two bodies, unmoving in front of her. 

Heart hitching in her throat, Elisse ran as fast as her feet would carry her. The clink of her heavy armor echoed, breaking the silence. Crumbling to her knees alongside Alistair’s bleeding, broken body, she begged with every ounce of breath she could force out of her lungs, “Alistair, please wake up.” Gently shaking him, she pleaded, “Wake up, please, this isn’t funny.”

Hands emanating a blue aura, she hovered them over him, moving slowly up and down from his head to his torso desperately trying to heal his wounds. Tears streamed from her eyes and down her face. She trembled, pouring magic into his body until she was drained. 

Rummaging through her pack for a lyrium potion, she downed the bottle of light blue liquid and carelessly tossed it to the side, shattering the vial. “Alistair, please.” Her voice broke, sounding foreign to her own ears. “Power, I need more power.” _I’m weakened from the fight, that’s all._ “He’ll be fine, just fine.” After each flask, her panic increased; there was no change in status. She whispered, “no, no, no.” 

It wasn’t until bottle number seven, her mind registered he was gone.

Something inside her snapped at the realization, slamming her fists on the ground until her knuckles bled. A shrill shriek escaped her lips as she screamed to the Maker, laying blame for the unspeakable tragedy. “Why, why him?” Leaning forward, she grabbed his armor and shook him gently. “Alistair please. Please get up.” Her efforts grew more vigorous. “Please get up. I can’t do this without you.”

Babbling incoherently, she prayed, begging. As the last act of a desperate woman, she attempted negotiation. She knelt, hands interlocked in front of her, while rocking back and forth.

“Maker, guide me in my darkest hour for I need you now more than ever. There has been a grave mistake.” Uncontrollable sobs scattered her already ragged breath. “This man is King and likely the only one on the face of Thedas who would ever be worthy of such a title. He deserved so much more than this!”

“Please, hear my plea…” She screamed at the sky, sobbing. “Take me instead!” Elisse stood, slowly spinning in circles, arms extended at her sides, voice breaking with every word. “Maker! Strike me down where I stand and breathe life into him again.” She choked through sniffles before falling to her knees whispering “If anything I have ever done has meant anything, you’ll let me fix this.”

No response ever came.

In her fit of grief, finding nowhere else to vent her emotions, she stood, turning towards the corpse of the archdemon. Drawing her sword, she stabbed it, repeatedly, casting every spell she could think of, gouging, mangling, and burning the flesh of the creature who took the man she loved from her. By the time she was finished, she was surrounded by a sea of red, the dragon nearly entirely drained and unrecognizable. Mounds of carved flesh and innards lay around the carcass, blood and various bodily fluids oozed about, a pungent odor of decay filled the air and her armor and clothes were saturated with Maker knows what.

She wept, gasping for breath, heart constricting, twisting, in her chest. Numbness followed by a rush of emotions overcame her. Anger and sadness the most prevalent as she felt the exact moment her heart shattered into a million tiny pieces.

Not only was she furious but she felt a revulsion that she never knew, a pure white hot rage of anger boiled her blood and burned inside her. She hated herself, for all of her actions, decisions, and words that led her to this point.

Elisse gently lifted his head and shoulders into her lap, stroking his cheek, weeping and mumbling incoherently, the King’s armor clanking as her endless tears fell onto his lifeless body.

Her love was gone.

Oghren tried to approach her after a few hours, footsteps falling on deaf ears as he nearly startled her.

“I…Warden? Don’t you think it may be time to, ugh, you know, head back?”

“Leave me alone!” She shrieked, casting a barrier around her and Alistair.

In her heightened sense of emotion, she cursed through sobs at his stupidity, losing all sense of time in the process. She cradled his head in her hands, rocking back and forth on her knees to try to soothe herself and accept the events that happened, feeling his body growing colder by the minute. _This is my fault._ If she hadn’t loved him, and he her, this would have never happened. If she had kept her distance, he never would have been so foolish to decide to take her place.

Perhaps if she wasn’t reeling from her head wound, she might have been coherent enough to register what was happening beforehand and stopped him. Perhaps she should have known and left him at the gates. Perhaps, maybe, if, possibly, all the contingency clauses and could haves didn’t mean shit because he was gone and nothing would ever be the same. The irony of his sacrifice, the one meant to spare her from the Warden fate, killed them both that day.


End file.
